Back Against the Wall
by Winterswild
Summary: The future is a cold, dark place when Piccolo wakes up to find that the Androids have destroyed everything and very nearly killed everyone. This world needs him like no other. Gohan needs him. With Seventeen & Eighteen too. Piccolo/Gohan.
1. Arrival

**Back Against the Wall**

Disclaimer: I do not own Dragonball Z or any of its characters

Warning: Swearing, violence & male/male

Set just before the Trunks saga.

Piccolo/Mirai Gohan

 **Chapter One**

A heavy ache throbbed its way into his awareness as he regained consciousness. He felt the numb give way, slowly, to an ever increasing pain. Dark eyes struggled as they opened, blinking in barely contained agony whilst a shaky breath left his cracked lips. He could hear himself groan, a weak, faint sound and his lungs burned with it. Bleary eyes tried to see but the stillness wouldn't leave him. Nothing would move, and he vaguely felt a repulsive panic begin to make itself known. Swallowing the bile rising in protest, he tried to focus. Just an inch from his blood shot eyes he could see wet grass blades wavering. He was aware then, that it was raining and it was coming down so hard that he wondered, hoped, that he might be under his waterfall. He kept trying to blink it out of his eyes from where he lay in the dirt, one cheek pressed firmly into the wet soil. This was no waterfall.

One green hand lay, taunting, in front of his face and he tried to move it, but nothing really happened. His hand just seemed to weigh so much, moving felt like a mammoth task. The weakness was unbearable. As the minutes rolled by, Piccolo felt something burning in his chest. Fear maybe, or pain. He couldn't move. The heat burned him and yet he knew he was freezing cold, long since drenched, frozen in the mud. _How long have I been here?_

It was dark, he could see the moonlight glittering in the rain drops on the grass blades. Dark shadows of trees swayed in the distance ahead. He had been training in the late morning, he could remember that much. He had felt hot and figured that maybe he was over doing it with his duplicate forms. Then the pain had hit, a tearing sensation deep in his stomach and chest, or maybe his back, he didn't know. _Have I been lying here since then?_

He almost didn't care. His eyes closed slowly and he distantly registered that he couldn't feel his body again. In his burgeoning delirium he idly wondered if he had lost it.

A sound, like a beating drum in the water, flickered across Piccolo's senses and his eyes slowly opened again. He didn't know how long he'd been out again for. It was still dark, and though the rain had stopped the ground was still very wet. That sound again. The water drum. He realised then, belatedly, that there was a boot in his vision. His mind was all over the place. _How did a boot get here?_

Gohan looked down with bold, dark eyes. He stood so still, staring with shock, confusion and suspicion. He pushed the happiness down, the foolish, pointless happiness that this was Piccolo. His dear friend, here and alive and lying face down in the dirt. Scuffed orange gi pants bristled in the breeze as it picked up but he continued to stand there. His dark hair was dripping in his eyes but he didn't care.

"Piccolo?"

There was no response. Gohan loosened his grip on the weapon in his hand, the one he had wielded expecting to see someone else. His heartbeat was still thudding and he felt the pain of holding too hard in his fingers when he put the taser back in his belt. Somewhere in the distance a fork of lightning struck and a long, low grumble echoed in the air. It stirred Gohan into action. He kneeled down, sinking into the damp soil and took a closer look. This wasn't just a Namek, this was definitely Piccolo. The purple gi was in tatters, soaking and his skin was streaked with violet blood. Concern then clawed its way into the front of Gohan's awareness and he gingerly picked up his friend. The shock and disbelief was ebbing, and now all he felt was a very strong urge to protect. His hands touched Piccolo's arms and he was so cold to the touch that the demi Saiyan almost dropped him. Images then, of the Androids digging his friend out of the ground to taunt him flashed across his mind and he had to school himself. He could hear his friend breathing, albeit faint. He didn't feel as heavy as Gohan had expected. _Nah, i'm just incredibly strong._

He took flight, holding his cargo close, as he took the most covert route he could. Broken cities lay below him, stone strewn everywhere in darkness and he could sense a few souls seeking refuge underneath them. He ignored them. Compassion had no place in this world. He arrived home, or what he considered to be home now, just as the rain picked up again. Once inside, the light was a little confronting but he now looked down at the man in his arms. Forest green skin, violet blood, white fangs. He could see him, so close and so alive. His heart began to constrict painfully in an intense feeling of happiness. It felt so foreign.

He stood in the entrance of the building, which also served as a kitchen. An old oak table that could seat four to his left, in front of a line of wooden cabinets, a sink and some surface area. It was nothing spectacular, but it sufficed. Water dripped onto the white tiles beneath his boots but he didn't move. His brown eyes were entranced and they were soon joined by another pair of wide, shocked bright cerulean ones. Bulma's mouth was agape, and she glanced up at Gohan who was just stood there, wet in his orange gi, blue undershirt stuck to his skin. He looked at her then, a life in his eyes that she hadn't seen since back when - her thoughts were cut off.

His voice was hopeful as he walked forward, back in action.

"He's hurt. Come on"

Bulma followed as he went down the hallway and into a sparse single bedroom, with an unused bed. He placed Piccolo down, far more carefully than was really necessary for the battle hardened Namek but Gohan wasn't about to take any chances. He looked like he had been inside the almighty storm that he had apparently brought with him. Bulma checked his vitals first and shifted Gohan out of the way, with a strength that came from nowhere. The demi-Saiyan watched, transfixed, and he noticed that Bulma's sweats had oil stains on them. _Probably engineering some new phaser blaster or an android bomb._ He thought fondly of her working though she didn't work like she used to, the failure just seemed to eat at your motivation.

"Well, I think he's okay but his heartbeat is slow and his breathing doesn't sound too good. I don't think he's getting enough oxygen into his lungs"

Gohan's chest squirmed as she continued.

"I'll get some oxygen and a heart monitor. I've only got basic stuff but he's strong, he'll be fine. Namek's heal quick"

She added the last bit for his comfort, and he knew it. He tried to smile, but it just wasn't the heartfelt smile he used to be able to pull.

"Okay, thanks Bulma"

"Sure thing, sunshine...I just...I can't believe it's really him"

Gohan paused before responding, moving out of the way of the door to let her through.

"I know"

She returned a few minutes later pulling some apparatus in behind her. The setup was done in record time and she was then placing the oxygen mask over Piccolo's face. The steady beep of a slow heart rate then started and kept going. The equipment looked a little odd in the small room. He drew the curtains and watched the dust puff up and slowly settle. Everything was so run down now, he had forgotten that it wasn't normal. He sat down in an old armchair, that had been put in here because it was worn. His gi felt heavy and soaked but he ignored it. Piccolo lay still with the mask over his face, looking so unlike the mentor he had grown up with. Bulma had finished fiddling with the settings on the monitor and then exhaled a breath she'd been holding. Blue hair was falling out of her roughly pulled back ponytail and Gohan could see wrinkles starting to show in the overhead light. It gave her face even more character, and she wasn't lacking any before.

"Right, all set up. You'll have to get him out of those wet clothes and under some blankets too, then get yourself to bed. You both need rest"

Her motherly tone always amused him. He nodded and waited for her to leave before carefully removing Piccolo's clothes. Gohan felt a strange nervousness at first. He had seen Piccolo undress before, sure, but he hadn't ever taken the clothes off an unconscious man before. He realised that it didn't phase him as much as it might have before all this happened. That naivety he once had was only an echo now. He averted his eyes when necessary but took a moment to let his fingers move along the grooves on the jade skin of his stomach, tracing the dark pink line around the natural body armour of his abs. His hands told him how real this all was, how his mentor's skin felt strangely soft and was warming up, and he could feel his stomach move up and down as he breathed. Gohan closed his eyes against the feeling and placed his palm flat against Piccolo's chest. There, underneath his hand, Piccolo's heart beat.

Piccolo awoke to the sound of electrical beeping, rumbling and the sensation of something digging into his cheeks. He opened heavy eyes and expected to see wet grass but instead, frowned. _What?_

The ceiling above him was cream in colour and a crack was beginning to show itself. He tried to look down, though it took a little effort. He was covered in some soft materials and he realised that he was warm. Comfortable even. It was a bed and he noticed to his chagrin that he was too big for it, his broad shoulders just about fit but his legs did not. He brought a hand up to remove the irritating thing that was on his face but as he did, he froze. To his left, a man sat in a chair that was too small for his bulky frame, head thrown back and snoring intermittently. The vivid orange gi was unmistakable and his first thought was Goku but it didn't sound right. The chi told him who it was but he tried to ignore it. A scar ran up the left side of the man's face but he could plainly see, the face he knew. He knew it like he knew his own.

Onyx eyes widened in disbelief, his hand still gripping the plastic covering his mouth and nose. His mind started to whir. _Is that...No. Gohan's only seven years old. No._

He removed the plastic thing, immediately frustrated that it had some kind of band wrapped around his head. Cold air rushed into his lungs and his eyes widened again when he started to cough. Every cough was accompanied by a piercing pain in his chest and he cursed at himself for it as he realised that the man had woken up now and was standing up. Even through the wracking in his lungs he could plainly see Gohan's face and the unmistakable large brown eyes. His voice only confirmed it.

"You need to put the breathing mask back on"

He pushed the mask back over his mouth and nose despite Piccolo's protests. He looked down with tired, kind eyes. Piccolo's shock was the only reason he didn't scowl.

"Gohan?"

The demi Saiyan smiled then, and Piccolo noticed that it looked a little unpracticed. Not the all encompassing smile he was used to seeing.

"I'm here, do you remember what happened? I thought...you died. I mean you did die. How did you come back?"

Piccolo felt like every question asked a thousand more and the constant feeling of confusion was now giving him a more familiar feeling; anger. He sat up this time, waving Gohan away, and removed the mask. He was careful to breathe slowly this time.

"Stop it, i'm not some human that needs looking after"

Gohan crossed his arms then, and in the light Piccolo could see the scar on his face clearly now.

"What do you mean i'm dead? Where am I?" _And who are you, really?_

Hesitation made Gohan pause and he uncrossed his arms again, placing one of his hands on Piccolo's arm. The Namek looked down at it and it's audacity.

"Don't you remember?"

Piccolo snarled a little then. He couldn't help it, the situation was too ridiculous.

"Clearly not"

"The androids...they killed you and...everyone"

Piccolo balked at that. _Everyone? What do you mean? Have I really been dead so long that you're what? Twenty years older?_

"Everyone is dead?"

Gohan's eyes softened then, in muted sympathy. He watched Piccolo's features fall and he thought then, that he looked younger than he remembered. It's funny how the mind plays tricks.

"I don't even know what an android is. The last thing I remember was training and then I woke up. I was lying in the dirt...that must be where you found me"

Gohan nodded but the Namek continued, his tone a little subdued.

"But the last time I remember you, you were...seven years old"

Dark brown eyes widened at that and Piccolo watched his reaction. His student had grown so much, physically, but there was an awareness in his eyes that was well worn with something Piccolo knew only too well; misery. There was a sorrow sitting in those big brown eyes. He felt confronted by it, by its maturity and something else. Those orbs were wise, well aware of the horrors of the world. As he looked up at Gohan's serious face, he felt something weighty in his own chest. He recognised it immediately; sadness. The Gohan he knew was so full of life.

"How can that be?"

"I don't know but...I don't remember dying, or any _androids_ "

Gohan was thinking then, suddenly focused and whimsical as he raised a hand to his chin. Arms clenched and the muscle there twitched in barely hidden frustration. Piccolo could see the strength there, swimming beneath the skin, and pride welled within him. _You've become quite the warrior Gohan._

 _If that's who you really are._

As he thought, Piccolo made a move to get up but stopped. A faint purple then began to appear on his cheek bones and at the tips of his ears. Gohan noticed and raised an eyebrow. The Namek explained, his tone filled with irritation and probably exhaustion.

"I'm naked"

"Oh right! I'll...see if I can grab something to fit you"

Piccolo opened his mouth to object before realising that he didn't have the energy to materialise any clothes. He closed it again and Gohan quickly left the room. Piccolo removed monitors and other things whilst he waited and alarms began to sound. Bulma came rushing in, her blue locks in disarray and wearing a quickly put on shorts and t-shirt that read "fight team". She came to a stop when she saw that Piccolo was awake with hands clamped over his ears.

"Oh! Haven't you healed quick! Best take it easy though"

She smiled and silenced the heart rate monitor alarm.

"It's so good to see you"

The smile was so genuine and Piccolo even started to believe then that he must still be dead and this was just another type of hell. She placed a hand on his arm and he moved it out of her grasp. He didn't respond and she hesitated before Gohan came in behind her.

"Oh Bulma! Sorry, I should have disconnected the monitor when he woke up"

She laughed a little.

"No it's fine, Trunks didn't even wake up. Warrior my ass"

Gohan laughed a little too. Piccolo just watched, feeling more and more like this didn't make sense. _Who on earth is Trunks? Oh, probably her human mate._

"Nothing wakes that kid. Well, you'll be pleased to know that our guest looks a lot better this morning"

"I told ya!" she winked.

He put his hand behind his head then, in true Son fashion.

"Yeah, only, he seems to have lost his memory...he doesn't remember dying, the androids, or...anything actually, not since I was seven"

Bulma's features faltered then. She looked at Piccolo with the look that a scientist gives an experiment that they're about to start and he scowled. She moved closer and his skin began to crawl at the proximity. The faint smell of soap graced his senses.

"You know, I did notice something on the scans I took. I didn't take any notice, it was so late and i just thought it was a mistake but…"

She dug around in the tray of medical supplies and pulled out the handheld device, switched it on and scanned him again. A few beeps sounded and Piccolo felt the noise dig into his skull. She showed it to Gohan.

"See here, this just..should be showing a different reading. I have plenty of Namekian data and according to this, he's only been alive for about a decade, albeit an adult for the most part. And...I checked my monitoring equipment for the androids last night. To pick up any electrical energy and…"

She pulled out a piece of paper with a printout and showed it to Gohan, who was only loosely following Bulma's excited rambling.

"Look at this spike in energy, and the type of radiation!"

Gohan opened his mouth to speak but she cut him off.

"I mean look at him, doesn't he look...young to you?"

Gohan looked at Piccolo then, who was sat with an contemptuous frown on his features.

"Now you mention it, I suppose he does look kind of young. But Namek's always look young, they live for a long time Bulma"

"I know that! But what i'm saying is...I don't think this is _our_ Piccolo"

Gohan crossed his arms again. Piccolo noticed it. _Did he get that from me?_

Piccolo's gravelly tones made them both turn towards him.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, I don't think your the same Piccolo that died here. I think you're from the past"

She said it with such conviction that Gohan wondered how she could come to such a conclusion.

"How could that even happen?"

She prodded him in the chest.

"I recognise these readings because i'm working on something myself, a little temporal experiment"

Piccolo tried to digest the information but he couldn't reconcile it in his head.

"I don't exactly recall getting in a time machine"

Gohan's eyes were serious again and Piccolo felt that distant pang as he spoke.

"Well, if you are from the past, we need to find out who brought you here...and why. The Androids have nearly destroyed this world and killed everyone. There is no future here"

Bulma looked down, biting her lip with a forlorn look in her eyes. Gohan said it with such disregard, so matter of fact. He placed some clothes on the armchair beside Piccolo's bed and ushered Bulma out of the room, leaving a stunned Piccolo still sitting up in bed. Minutes passed and he didn't move. He wondered if this was just a very long nightmare, or maybe he'd suffered a head injury. _Either that, or I really did die, and this is my hell._

 **Please R &R!**


	2. Blue Jeans

**Back Against the Wall**

Disclaimer: I do not own Dragonball Z or any of its characters

Warning: Swearing, violence & male/male(hermaphrodite)

Piccolo/Mirai Gohan

A little bit of getting reacquainted. This story will have plenty of action, but it will have a lot of quiet moments. Such is life.

 **Chapter Two**

 **Blue Jeans**

Piccolo had fallen back asleep without wanting to, and had to face the same confusion and realisation routine when he woke up again. Groaning and blinking sleep from his eyes, he sat up in the small bed but this time he was itching for answers and, he noticed, just itchy. He wondered if it was the blanket, or the dust or maybe the constant irritation had finally manifested itself in physical form. He frowned as he heard small footsteps rapidly thudding through the hallway and towards his room. A second later, a mass of lilac hair was in his face, even in his mouth, as a little boy bundled on top of him.

"You're alive!"

Piccolo's dark eyes went wide and he shoved a hand in the boy's chest to keep him away. He looked to be about Gohan's age, _his_ Gohan, though maybe a little older. Bright blue eyes shone with happiness as he beamed up at the confused Namek. This boy clearly knew him and Piccolo felt an unfamiliar pang of guilt at it, because he had no idea who this child was. Though he did feel the chi was unusually strong for a human, of any age.

"Trunks!" Bulma's piercing voice echoed through the hall as she came hunting for him. Piccolo saw the look of horror in the little boy's eyes as he scrambled down onto the floor and Piccolo heard him curse. "Oh shit!" It made the Namek chuckle. He was certain such language was going to get the gutsy little thing into trouble. Bulma marched in, face scrunched up in mock anger and immediately started to chastise the youngster.

"You know you're not supposed to be in here! Piccolo needs to rest!"

Trunks had the decency to look sheepish and looked at the floor with reddening cheeks. The Namek supposed that this must be Bulma's child, or perhaps a child they had found and taken in. _Sentimental humans._ She ushered Trunks out muttering a quiet sorry towards Piccolo and closed the door behind her. His long ears could hear her continue to chastise him whilst he repeatedly said sorry and he wondered if all human females were the same. Though he had only really come across two so far. He swung his legs over the bed, noticing that even though he was feeling better there was some odd bruising on his stomach and chest. The floor felt strange as he pushed his feet flat, unsteady at first, and he looked down. There was some kind of fabric grass looking material covering the floor, only it was grey _. Carpet,_ his mind advised somewhere from its recesses, and he scowled wondering if it had come from Nail.

The clothes Gohan had left made him frown in a comical way as he fingered the material, it was a little rough to the touch. There was little movement in them as he slid the pale blue jeans up his legs. They more or less fit though they were a touch short, which he thought bizarre since Gohan's clothes wouldn't fit at all and he idly wondered who they might belong to. He struggled with the button, his talons making it impossible to push the button through the hole which he figured it was meant to go through. He couldn't do it.

"For fuck's sake"

Someone knocked on the door, making Piccolo sigh in agitation before he sensed that it was Gohan. He looked at the door. A few seconds went by before realising that the half saiyan was waiting for permission.

"Uh...Come in"

Gohan offered a half smile at his mentor and closed the door behind him once he realised Piccolo was only half dressed.

"Oh sorry um…"

He watched as Piccolo continued to fiddle with the button and it dawned on Gohan then that the Namek had probably never worn anything but his gi before. He went over, standing in front of the taller man and moved Piccolo's hands away as he easily did up the button. He then looked at the flustered Namek as he pulled the zip up, making Piccolo jump. Gohan was unfazed, which made his companion look all the more reactive.

"They're not a bad fit"

Piccolo wondered if anything really bothered this Gohan, or was he just too jaded by it all? He responded, trying to distract himself from his own embarrassment.

"Yeah, I was surprised. I haven't seen many seven foot humans"

Gohan laughed a little, but it was humorless.

"They were Tien's"

That pang of guilt returned.

"Oh"

"It's okay, i'm sure he wouldn't mind"

Piccolo picked up the other garments and slid the white t-shirt over his head. It was ridiculously tight and Gohan put a hand to his mouth to hide a snigger. The Namek quickly put on the black jumper, and to his relief it wasn't tight. It also was a turtle neck and he wondered if Gohan had picked it out on purpose.

"Tien's as well?"

"Oh...no. It was my dad's, but it didn't fit him...too big"

It made Piccolo want to shrink inside the woollen material.

"Comfortable?"

"It's fine"

Gohan smirked, knowing full well that his mentor felt anything but. He looked down at his bare feet and realised that underneath the chair, Gohan had left some shoes, and some of those soft foot coverings he'd seen the humans wear. For some reason he wasn't sure about the shoes, or trainers, or whatever they were. _Surely my stuff must be dry?_

He must have been sporting a disconcerted look because Gohan seemed to read his mind.

"Bulma's running tests on your things, to see if she can figure out how you got here"

Piccolo growled a little and leaned down and put on the strange footwear. Gohan opened the door and beckoned the Namek to follow. As the half Saiyan walked, he heard Piccolo grumble something about human clothing and he smiled. How he had missed the surly Namek's grumbling, the perpetual impatience. His friend shuffled behind him and he wondered if the footwear didn't quite fit, in fact it probably didn't. He had no idea what shoe size Piccolo was and he was sure as hell Piccolo didn't either. He led them both into the kitchen and gestured for him to sit down on one of the wooden chairs. Piccolo just looked at it like it was an alien creature. Gohan grabbed a bottle of water out of the fridge and turned to realise his friend was still standing there. Of course, he'd forgotten how unsocialised the Namek had been. Had it really been more than 10 years?

Piccolo uncrossed his arms and accepted the bottle of water. Fatigue thrummed through his muscles as he did and took the proffered seat, sitting down gingerly. The chair wasn't really designed to support someone his height and he had to stretch his legs out and kind of shuffle forward and lean back at the same time. It was awkward. In fact, he had felt awkward, frustrated and little else since he had arrived. Maybe that was just how it is here. Gohan sat down himself with a beer and Piccolo only knew it was beer from the piercing smell, the bottle was unmarked. Gohan took a long swig before placing it down and licking his lips.

"How are you feeling?"

"Fine, all things considered"

He tapped against the water bottle, emerald fingertips getting damp from the condensation. For some reason it felt so cold. He cleared his throat, shifting in his chair and put the bottle on the table to stop from fiddling with it.

"Tell me about the androids"

It was the other man's turn to clear his throat and he took another sip of his beer. Piccolo noted that he wasn't wearing his gi, but a ruffled khaki green shirt and stone coloured trousers. To look covert, perhaps. He had dirt on his face.

"There's not much to say, we haven't really discovered that much about them. There's two, they're brother and sister we think. They appeared over ten years ago now. My dad...he was already dying from the heart virus when they arrived. They took us out pretty quickly, it was more of a slaughter than a fight"

He noticed Piccolo's fallen expression, discrete though it was.

"I mean, they all went out fighting. You...went out fighting. We just weren't a match for them. Soon it was just Bulma, Trunks and myself and we hid out. We were the only Z fighters, and anyone else who'd made it were relying on us to live"

Gohan swallowed an unconscious lump and rubbed his head through his short hair.

"I mean, it quickly became apparent that we weren't going to win with brawn. We needed to think our way out of this, or at least that seemed like a good idea at the time. That was then, and now here we are still hiding and we haven't thought of a way out"

His wry laugh made Piccolo's chest tight. He thought of the little Gohan he knew and the man that was sitting here now. The man with a scar on his very adult, serious face.

"Not for lack of trying, Bulma has done nothing but research since, and Trunks and I have looked everywhere for information or resources. It's just, we're always one step behind, and we've not caught up"

It looked to Piccolo that Gohan had already been out that morning, searching for whatever it is they're looking for. Piccolo didn't want any more water, his stomach felt strangely empty but he didn't want to fill it. He looked at the other man.

"I must be here for a reason, maybe it's to help you in some way"

Gohan smiled at that, not voicing his thoughts. _I hope so, but you're power level isn't telling me anything I want to hear._ He knew it would offend the sensitive Namek. Piccolo was also not voicing the words running through his own head, thoughts of this being a random accident, thoughts of being no help at all. Gohan gestured to the neglected bottle of water on the table with a rough hand.

"I wouldn't let that go to waste, fresh water isn't so easy to come by"

Piccolo acknowledged the comment with a grunt.

"So what do we do now?"

He was ready to fight, geared for action. He grinned, Gohan hadn't come across enthusiasm to fight the androids in...well, since before Vegeta died. It was sweet really, how naively Piccolo would rush into his own demise, again. He wasn't about to lose Piccolo a second time, not to the same evil, and he shook his head.

"Nothing, yet. We'll wait to see what Bulma comes up with"

With that, Piccolo stood up and sighed in relief to be out of the cramped position. Gohan joined him and the Namek could see how tall Gohan had grown. Taller than Goku, he noted.

"I'll go train then"

Piccolo walked towards the door, wondering how he was going to train in this ridiculously restrictive outfit. He tried not to think of how tired he felt, like there was some fatigue deep in his bones.

"You can't leave. Sorry, but there's a shield around the building to keep us hidden and...well, it's too dangerous. The androids are close"

He frowned at Gohan's statement, the smaller man had already left that morning, clearly. What was so different? He could keep his chi down. Gohan's wide brown eyes were not budging though.

"I'll meditate then and keep my energy level low"

Gohan shook his head, and his tone started to slip into something a bit more impatient.

"And go where? There's nothing but a broken city for miles, and you can't go much further than that without the risk of being discovered"

Piccolo crossed his arms. Gohan was being unreasonable, he could look after himself. At those chestnut eyes though, he relented, if only because he didn't want the other man to blow a fuse for no reason.

"Fine. I'll stay here"

The moment he said it the regret was immediate. The four walls felt like chains and he looked back at the hallway and decided, reluctantly, to return to the small room he had been given to meditate. He left the water on the table.

Gohan watched him leave with sad eyes. He hadn't meant to raise his voice at the other man but he was just so stubborn sometimes. There was something about the Namek that he couldn't put his finger on, a difference. His memory of Piccolo was vague these days, he of course treasured the memories of them training in the wilderness, going to Namek and bringing Piccolo back to life. Soon after is where it ended though, or there abouts, when his dad got sick and the androids arrived. Visions of his dad writing and screaming in bed as the virus finally overwhelmed him flitted through his mind and he pushed them to one side. His mother had tried to stay strong, but her determined dark eyes became more and more hollow as they were picked off one by one, the same look he saw in Bulma's eyes when she realised she was one of the only ones left. His mother had died then.

And Piccolo died too. All of his friends had died, all the people he loved.

He realised then; what he couldn't put his finger on. It wasn't that Piccolo was actually much different, he remembered that he was gruff, difficult and unreasonable but in Gohan's eyes he had been a hero _, his_ hero. And of course he still thought those things but now, now he was seeing it through adult eyes. As a child he had been so in awe of the great green giant, he had accepted Piccolo just the way he was, flaws and all, like children do. It was different because he could now see how unsocialised and difficult Piccolo was, how he struggled with emotions. He was a young man, growing up. Gohan was already a grown man, and a jaded one at that. Losing everyone and everything had made him feel a hundred. And now, here, was this surly Namekian who was barely a decade old. The realisation actually made him laugh, before it made him feel weird.

Piccolo had meditated sitting on the bed for a few hours, not having the energy to hover as normal. The effects of time travel, he supposed. It had taken a while to settle into a meditative state, there were no birds chirping, no waterfall crashing and no breeze rustling the leaves of the trees. His ears had instead honed in on what he presumed were the machines running the building's power, and the shield Gohan had mentioned. And the fridge, in the kitchen. Those things always made that noise and he hated it. His ears flickered as someone entered the room and he opened his eyes.

Gohan had left Piccolo alone to digest this new situation, but eventually, he had wanted to see him again. Having the other man here was too tempting to ignore. Bulma was mostly always working and Trunks was just a kid, a smart, fabulous young man but a kid nonetheless. He walked straight into Piccolo's room since the door had been left open and the Namek was sat on the bed with legs crossed, jeans probably pulled too tight for comfort. The jumper suited him at least, though he was certain the other man would claim otherwise. He opened his eyes and looked at Gohan expectantly. Gohan then realised, belatedly, that he had absolutely no real reason to be there.

"Uh...I thought you might like some company"

Piccolo frowned, not really understanding how Gohan had come to that conclusion. It sounded like some human weakness. It took him a moment to realise that it was Gohan who probably needed the company. He sighed and gestured to the chair. The half Saiyan gladly sat down, though he was too muscled to fit properly, Saiyans were just built to be bulky. Piccolo was somewhat glad for the interruption. His thoughts had been a jumbled mess, he didn't know how he was here, why or if it was even possible to return. He didn't know this world, he was trying to be patient but the information he had so far seemed inherently vague. This was Earth, the androids had killed everyone, the end. He felt helpless and unsure. These weren't feelings he enjoyed, it was like he had just hatched all over again. Maybe Gohan would tell him something useful this time.

"What's on your mind?"

Gohan sighed at the question.

"So many things. At the moment i'm wondering how long we can stay here. Trunks has made some human friends for once, they're at class now. There's only five kids in this area but one of the parents used to be a high school teacher. Can you believe it's the first time he's been to school? I mean, I know I didn't but by his age…"

Piccolo instantly regretted asking as he struggled to answer the question. He had never really regarded school as something to important. Trunks having friends though, that did sound important, the little boy had likely had an incredibly unpleasant life so far.

"It sounds…" he had no idea how to finish that sentence so he just ignored the question. "How long have you been here?"

"Oh about three years now, which is pretty good going"

Piccolo nodded. He noticed again how dusty everything was.

"So how do you train?"

There it is. Gohan knew it would only be a matter of seconds before the subject of fighting came up. He was almost glad, so much like old times.

"We usually get our fill fighting the androids, that or if they're far enough out, which isn't that rare, we go the other way. We probably only train two or three times a week." _Not every day like you, you martial arts obsessed oddball._ Gohan thought it fondly.

Piccolo wondered what he was going to do if training was a limited option. Not for the first time that day, Gohan seemed to see where his thoughts were going. That was starting to bother him, more than it should have.

"We tend to research instead, through the media or old science journals, testing debris, designing new weapons. That and Trunks keeps us pretty busy"

Piccolo wasn't sure how he was going to fit in in this scenario.

"As for other things, well we read a lot. Trunks like his movies...and we spend time together, we don't know how long we've got, but for the moment we've got each other"

That was bittersweet. Gohan smiled, knowing Piccolo wouldn't know what to say. Comfort had not been the man's strong point, however, he was taken by surprise.

"No one knows when their time is up, at least you have a reason to make the most of it. Most people don't"

Piccolo offered warmth in his eyes as he said it.

Gohan had forgotten how wise Piccolo could be, _maybe that's why he was here, to be the voice of reason where there is none._ The day was getting on, the air was cooling even further and the sun was already setting. Gohan looked at his watch and realised it was almost evening. He thought about dinner, but Trunks was spending the night with one of the kids at his class so at least there would only be one Saiyan to feed. Bulma wasn't much of a cook so Gohan did most of it, though they did share the task in theory. She was a sly one when it came to dinner time. He idly wondered what Piccolo might eat, or if he had ever really eaten. With the lack of water around here though, it might be an idea to incorporate feeding the Namek into his routine as well. Piccolo was giving him a strange look.

"Sorry, I was just thinking"

Piccolo raised a brow.

"Well, don't hurt yourself"

Gohan looked incredulous before he laughed, genuinely. _Did Piccolo just make a joke?_ The mirth on his face actually reached his eyes and the Namek couldn't help but feel better at the sight. The Gohan he knew had laughed every other moment. As they talked, Piccolo felt his thighs begin to ache and he rocked back on the bed and kicked his legs out from beneath him, stretching them. His feet almost touch Gohan's knees.

"You shouldn't have your shoes on the bed you know"

Piccolo just pulled a face that said, _do I care?_

"Doing the laundry is hard enough, don't make it worse. Unless, _you'd_ like to do it?"

Piccolo scowled, predictably and Gohan laughed again. Through the indignation he did notice that Gohan was clearly relaxing and he bit back his urge to pound Gohan a new one for his cheek, because this was probably the first time in a long while he had laughed and had a little fun. He kicked the shoes off and one of them hit Gohan, deliberately.

Next time, he would kick Gohan in his smug face.

Bulma must have heard Gohan laughing and she entered the room with a smile on her face, something told Piccolo it was a rare sound. Cerulean eyes looked at the reclining Namek, teal brow raising as she looked at his outfit and she bit her lip in a smirk at the sight of his socks. Reindeer were flying around her ankle. She placed a hand on her hip and winked at him.

"This isn't a bad look for you big guy!"

Piccolo's cheeks and ears instantly went purple and he scowled as they both started laughing. She was wearing a denim skirt and white shirt, but they were covered in black oil in places. It seemed Bulma hadn't changed much over the years, she had aged a little but she was still lively and pleasant looking, he supposed, for a human. And for a female. _So not really then?_

He furrowed his jade brows, that wasn't his own voice. _Was that Nail again?_

"Are you okay?"

The concern in Gohan's voice reminded him of Goku.

"Fine, just...out of sorts"

"I'll bet! You've come a long way, and it's not like you had a time machine to protect you!"

He looked at her then, expectantly.

"Uh...well, I figured you didn't. Don't worry, i've made some interesting discoveries! I'll tell you all about it over dinner!...There is dinner?" Red lips smiled sweetly at Gohan who rolled his eyes.

Piccolo groaned inside.

 **Until next time!**


End file.
